Iron Souls
by LysanderTheFistOfDorn
Summary: A group of Loyalist Iron Warriors from the Great Crusade are found after being lost in the Warp for 10,000 years. They emerge to find a different Imperium than the one they left, and they don't know if they approve of it or not.
1. Chapter 1

Adept Hans Talandor watched the screens of his auspex station in the PDF base. An interplanetary grid of sensor arrays constantly fed him information, most of which was useless. A small warning light beeped on his display, it appeared as though a ship was exiting the Warp on the very edge of the system. It appeared to be a ship of ancient make, but Hans could not identify the class. He tuned in the vox implanted in his throat.

"Adept Talandor to Senior Tech-Priest Carnitine."

"Yes?"

"Sir, an unknown ship has just exited the Warp and is en route towards the planet."

"I shall arrive shortly." The ship could be seen on the screens now, thanks to the pict finders in the sensors. Unlike most ships of the current era, it looked less like a floating cathedral and more like a ship of war. A name was visible on the side, _Benthos_, and a mark was visible on the prow. It was a large metal face, shaped like a death's head. The words "Iron Within, Iron Without" were visible under it. Hans sat staring at it, and didn't notice when the Tech-Priest entered.

"Adept Talandor, this is the vessel you spoke of?"

"Yes, sir." The Tech-Priest studied the ancient vessel, muttering to himself while he did so.

"It appears to be Great Crusade era, though there is a .017% chance I am mistaken. Have you tried hailing them?"

"No, sir. They are just now coming into vox range."

"Attempt to contact them." The Adept nodded, tuning into a hailing frequency.

"Unknown ship, this is the Vanaheim PDF base. Unknown ship, we require identifacation." The vox burbled and hissed for a moment before a voice came on.

"Vanaheim PDF, this is the Iron Warriors' ship _Benthos_, we have wounded and need medical attention. Can you send word to Terra? Warmaster Horus has betrayed us!" The two men in the station looked at each other in bewilderment.

"_Benthos, _are you referring to the event known as the Horus Heresy? Are you not aware that it occured over ten thousand years ago?" They heard an intake of breath.

"What?! Ten thousand years? But what of the Emperor? The Primarchs?"

"Do you wish to meet in person? I'm sure it would be easier to explain." Both men looked at the new person in the room. It was a beautiful young woman, her lovelyness marred only by a scar that ran down her right eye to her throat. She wore black robes over a leather combat suit, and wore a gold necklace with a large, styllized "I" pendant.

"Yes, yes. Of course."

"Very well, Vanheim out." The two men looked at the Inquisitor, their eyes curious.

"Carry on." She walked out of the station, down the hallways towards the exit. A Rhino sat idling outside, painted black and white. Five Space Marines stood next to it. All of them were fully armored except one.

"Inquisitor Nixos, is it true?" The Inquisitor looked up at the Black Templar Castellan.

"Yes, Castellan. A Great Crusade era ship belonging to the Iron Warriors has just exited the Warp. They are due to meet with us, so I want you all to be ready."

!

Aboard the _Benthos_ all was quiet, despite the news. A massive warrior in Mk III warplate sat in the commander's chair, his face covered by an iron mask, one that was identical to the one depicted on his shoulder plate. His name was Barabas Dantioch, Warsmith and former commander of the 51st Expeditionary Fleet. He commanded what was left of his Loyalist Iron Warriors, little more than twenty five in all. His sergents, Bendix and Mereel, stood awaiting his orders.

"My brothers, these people what us to meet with them so they can explain the galaxy's current state. I say we do, but cautiously. This is not the Emperor's Imperium anymore." Bendix nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Warsmith. I say we should send Venerable Brother Firaxa along with you and one of the Terminators." Mereel nodded.

"Agreed. We need you well protected, Warsmith."

"Am I not able to defend myself, brothers? Have I become too weak and feeble to do so? You are my brothers, but you both forget your place. I am the Warsmith, my place is at the frontline of battle and siege alike." He tapped a few buttons on his command throne.

"Tech-Adept Holdan, ready lord Firaxa. And awaken one of the Terminator suits, I'm coming down." He stood, towering above what was left of the human crew. Most had died on the long journey, but new ones had appeared, thanks to a crew of both men and women. His armor was silvery grey, black and yellow warning chevrons covering his left shin and right shoulder plate. A bolt pistol was holstered at his waist, a gift from an Imperial Fist captain. While most of his brothers were jealous of the Fists, Dantioch rather enjoyed their rivalry. He had always thought that without competition you could not improve you work or yourself.

He walked down the halls of the ancient ship, flanked by two guards in Mk III plate similar to his. Both held ancient Crusade pattern bolters, each a powerful weapon. He entered the Mechanicus workshop, a large place full of broken warplate and shattered weapons. Dantioch saw the Tech-Adept over at one of the three suits of Terminator plate they still had.

"Hail, honored Tech-Adept." The tall man turned to face him, a small grin on his face. He wore the red robes of his order, but unlike most of his ilk, Holdan was no stranger to combat. He had lost the left side of his face to a laspistol round when the Loyalists captured this ship. In it's place was a large bionic, the left side made of a silvery metal, his eye a large red one.

"Hail, Warsmith. I have almost completed the rituals for the suit, and Tech-Sergeant Goran completes the awakening for Lord Firaxa as we speak." Dantioch looked over the massive suit of Terminator plate, it was Cataphractii Pattern if he remembered correctly, and he always did. It's left hand was a power axe, perfect for cutting through foe, armored and unarmored alike. A storm bolter was bulit in on the right hand, a deadly weapon in the right hands. As he studied it, a loud grinding was heard, like the gears of a tank. Dantioch walked through a small door to the Dreadnought hold. A large silver Dreadnought, covered in warning chevrons and weapons, shuffled about as though trying to get his feet back.

"Hail, Venerable Firaxa." The "eyes" of the massive war machine locked on to the Warsmith, before another great grinding of gears sounded.

"Well, if it isn't the Warsmith. So, have we made it to Terra? Are we bringing the fight to the Emperor's enemies?" Dantioch shook his head slowly.

"Not yet, brother. There is some news you must hear, but it will have to wait. We need to prepare to go planetside." He turned to the Tech-Sergeant standing there. "Brother Goran, ready the Stormbird for flight. I must prepare as well."

He walked over to the suit he had been inspecting, standing on a small raised dais as a group of servitors walked out of hidden alcoves in the wall. The began removing his warplate, piece by piece. Soon he stood before them in nothing but his iron mask and a black undersuit.

"Tech-Adept, have my armor sent to my chambers." The Adept of Mars nodded as the servitors began to bring over pieces of the Terminator plate. They started with his legs, each of servitors chanting a hymn of the Mechanicus, so as to appease the machine spirit of his armor. Soon his legs were encased, and the began with his torso. It a total of three hours for the warplate to be completely activated and awakened. A servitor handed him the power axe, which he slid onto a magnetic lock on his back.

"Warsmith, I have prepped the Stormbird for flight. We are able to leave when you are ready."

"Good. We are on our way." He nodded at Venerable Firaxa, who started walking after him. Any who met them in the corridors jumped out of their way, but many followed, eager to see the Warsmith go forth once more. An honor guard of four Assault Marines was to be sent with him. Assault Marines were rare in the 4th Legion, usually reserved for going over the walls of a fortress to plant demolitions. Due to the high number of fatalities this type of work entailed, the Assault Marines have to be superb warriors. All were armed with chainaxes and bolt pistols, armored in Mk IV plate. Dantioch turned to the twenty odd men that had gathered before him.

"Today, my brothers, I go forth not to war, but in friendship. I go forth to find out what happened to our beloved Emperor and the Arch-Traitor Horus. Iron Within!" The voices of twenty three warriors roared.

"IRON WITHOUT!" Dantioch turned and strode into the Stormbird, followed by the Assault Marines. It was a tight fit for Brother Firaxa, but he managed. The ships engines fired, letting it rise off the deck. It flew out of the hold of the ship, down towards the planet below.

!

Inquisitor Nixos stood at the vox controls of her Thunderhawk dropship, watching as the servitor slaved to the contols slowly flipped through the stations. The squad of Black Templars stood outside the dropship, some standing watch while others prayed. Her mentor had been Inquisitor Thrax, who had overseen the re-claimation of the Forge World Graia several years ago. She had been an Interrogator then, and had watched as he tested the Ultramarines' Captain. He had let use the Black Templar squad that was on loan to him, as the Captain was now his bodyguard.

"This is Vanaheim, repeat Vanaheim. Come in _Bethos_, come in."

"Copy Vanaheim, this is the Stormbird _Iron Soul_, on approach vector. Where do you want us, over?"

"Copy _Iron Soul_. We want you to set down about two kilometers west of Facility Njord."

"Copy, moving to approach." Nixos walked out of the dropship, standing by the Black Templars as they watched a small speck of light approach. The Black Templars tighten their grips on their bolters as the form of a Stormbird came into view. It was a silver-gray, black and yellow warning chevrons appeared on many of the panels. An iron death's head mask was imprinted on the prow, above the words _Iron Soul._ It slowly dropped in for a landing, it's skids sinking into the soft earth. The back hatch groaned open, and the Inquisitor and Templars alike heard the clanking and grinding of Firaxa's ancient body. They watched as he stood to attention, and a group of silver clad Assault Marines filed out. They heard another heavy clanking as a massive figure walked down the ramp.

He was clad in Terminator plate, an ancient Crusade era pattern. A power axe was locked onto his back, and a storm bolter was built into his right gauntlet. Instead of a helm he wore an iron mask on his head identical to the one on his shoulder pad. He raised his hand in greeting.

"Hail. I am Warsmith Barabas Dantioch, former commander of the 51st Expeditionary Fleet." The Inquisitor cautiously raised her hand as well.

"I am Inquisitor Mjolka Nixos of the Ordo Malleus." The Warsmith cocked his head.

"What is an inquisitor?"

"We are an order of warriors dedicated to rooting out the influence of unholy xenos and Chaos." The Warsmith nodded. He then looked at the assembled Black Templars.

"Who, might I ask, are these warriors? They appear Astartes, but I do not recognize the heraldry." The Castellan stepped forward, removing his helmet as he did.

"I am Castellan Francisco Fleischer of the Black Templars, most noble sons of Rogal Dorn." The Warsmith nodded.

"Well met, Sons of Dorn. I remember many of your elders from my days. All were noble warriors." The Castellan spit at his feet.

"Such can not be said for yours." Instead of reacting like they though he would, the Warsmith began laughing.

"I like this one, Inquisitor. He's got spirirt. But on to why we're here. What happened to the Emperor and the Arch-Traitor?" The Inquisitor began the tale, able to tell the entire thing due to being an Inquisitor. The Warsmith frequently asked questions during the tale, which the Inquisitor answered.

!

At the PDF station in the Njord facility, something evil was awkened. Adept Talandor knelt before an eight-pointed star daubed onto the floor in blood. He chanted in an unholy tounge, his ears and eyes bleeding as he did.

"My Lords, hear me! An ancient ship, with loyalist Iron Warriors has been contacted." Before he could complete another sentence, a bright red light surged from the Chaos star. The Adept screamed in pain as he mind was invaded and violated by an ancient being of pure malice. Soon his screams were quiet though, and he stood. But when he opened his eyes, the were like the yellow eyes of some great reptile.

!

_Ok, I got this idea from actual 40k canon. During the Heresy a group of Iron Warriors remained loyal and they captured an enemy flagship, but they were lost on their way to Terra and nobody knows what happend to them. So, please review and tell what you think, where I might need improvement, etc. Thanks, and remember. Iron Within, Iron Without!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, here comes chapter two. I want to thank everyone for their reviews so far. Now, this chapter is gonna go in a darker direction than the last one. GrimDark._

Dantioch walked across the walkway his men had constructed, the metal groaned under his weight. They had been here almost two standard weeks now, and they had been busy. They had built an impressive system of trenches and bunkers, and a large training ring. Some of the younger Black Templars had challenged the Iron Warriors to single combat, but Dantioch had told them no. It wasn't until the Castellan called him a coward that he agreed. He walked towards the ring, hearing the clang of steel on steel.

One of his brothers, Drustos, was fighting one of the Templars. Both had been stripped of their power armor and fought with sword and shield. They both wore chainmail shirts, but that would be little protection against the monomolecular edges of the swords and the power of Astartes muscle. Some of the Inquisitor's men had stopped to watch, but Dantioch could tell that some of them had seen it before. He was back in his Mk III plate, and while many of them tried to hide it, he could tell some of the Templars were in awe of the warrior from the time of ledgends.

He noticed one of the mortals moving rather oddly. He wore the uniform of a PDF trooper, so what was he doing way out here. He turned to look at something behind him, and Dantioch saw his eyes. They were bright yellow and orange, like those of a large reptile. Dantioch turned to one of the Black Templars standing guard.

"Brother, is it normal for a mortal of this world to have yellow eyes?" The unhelmed Templar shook his head, and looked to where Dantioch had been pointing. The PDF trooper was looking right at them. The Templar's eyes widened. He raised his bolter.

"DAEMON!" He fired, one of the bolts hitting the possessed man. His left arm was torn off, but it didn't seem to phase him at all. In a blur of movement it was in the ring with Drustos and the Templar. It's right arm was convulsing, twisting. Bits of cloth and meat went flying as the arm morphed into an organic blade. It swung at Drustos, who threw up his shield to block it. The blade went right through the shield, taking off Drustos' left hand in the process. The Templar had circled around behind the beast and plunged his sword into it's back, twisting and sawing to sever the spine. It swung around and bashed him in the head, it's unholy might rendering him senseless.

Dantioch had drawn his power axe from his back and leapt down into the ring. The unhelmed Templat had followed him, drawning his chainsword. The beast had noticed both of them, and was circling them. It charged at Dantioch, who swung the massive axe. It bit into the beings' side for a minute, but didn't hold. The Templar attacked as well, his chainsword tearing huge chunks out of the beast.

"What be you, beast?" A deep chuckle sound from the being.

"I am the herald of your doom, Iron Warrior. There are many such as you that writhe in the Warp. You will see them soon." The daemon charged again, but was abruptly stopped as Dantioch rammed his axe through it's chest. He shook the ruined shell of a man off the glowing blade, and turned to the Templar.

"Brother, was that a daemon?"

"Indeed. I may have been to quick to judge you and yours, Warsmith. I am Neophyte Adler."

"Well met, Adler. You have the noble bearing I remember of the sons of Dorn."

"My thanks, Warsmith. But I must report this incident to the Castellan." Dantioch nodded and watched as the Templar walked away. Some of his men approached him.

"Warsmith. Captain Emilio says he reads incoming ships on the _Benthos_ scanners."

"Friend or foe?"

"He was unsure, he said they bore an eight pointed star as their sign." Dantioch said not another word as he ran towards the land speeder the Black Templars had loaned them. He climbed into it and punched the throttle. He knew what was coming.

!

Warsmith Berata Niktu sat upon the command throne aboard his ship. He led a force of Chaos Astartes, cultits, traitor Guardsmen and militia. He was one of Chaos' greatest champions. His thrall on the forge world of Vanaheim had informed him that one of his brothers that had been presumed lost had just turned up. He remembered Dantioch, a coward in the face of truth. While it was true that Berata didn't command many of his brothers, he had picked up stragglers from other Legions. He had World Eaters, Emperor's Children, even a Dark Apostle and a host of Word Bearers.

"Lictus, send the bezerkers to the drop pods. Let's see how these Loyalists do."

"Aye, my lord."

!

Sergeant Bendix watched as several burning lights streaked towards the ground not far from thier position. He knew only one thing they could be.

"Drop pods! Somebody get on that heavy bolter! And fix bayonets!" Due to the close up nature of a siege, many of the Iron Warriors had modified their bolters to hold bayonets. Brother Firaxa stood by himself in front of the trench network as the first of the drop pods landed. The doors opened and a screaming red tide charged forwards.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" It was the Traitors. They had not faced each other in centuries, but as powerful and enraged as the World Eaters were, they could not stand before the anger of Firaxa. His heavy bolter fired from his right arm, grinding armor and bone alike into paste. As the bezerkers neared the line, he swung the massive flail that was his left hand. He wreaked a butcher's toll on the Chaos Astartes, but they cared not from whence blood flowed. One of the bezerkers, bearing the heraldry of the Iron Warriors, leapt aboard Firaxa. His chainaxe bit into the hardened ceramite of the Dreadnaught shell.

Firaxa shook his mighty frame, attemping to dislodge the bezerker. Suddenly the bezerker was gone, blasted away by a lascannon. The loud roaring of a land speeder was heard as one came screaming across the plains. It impacted into a few bezerkers before it slammed into the ground. A great cry was taken up as the mighty form of Dantioch rose from the wreckage. His power axe left his hand as he threw it at a charging bezerker. He drew his pistol, his cold eyes finding the right place to plant a shell. As he ran past, he wrenched his axe from the chest of the dead bezerker.

Brother Adler and the Castellan heard the roar of bolters and the warcry of the unholy as they came back across the field. A tide of red was trying to drown the grey. The Castellan turned to his assembled men.

"These heretics seek to take our prize from us. Let them taste our blades! Charge!" He drew a massive power sword from his back and charge down the hill. Some of the bezerkers caught the movement and ran to meet them. Soon the battlefield was an area of madness, of blood and death. Adler was in his element. He had almost broke his chainsword off in the body of a massive bezerker, and it finally did snap under the chainaxe of another. He grabbed the heretic's forearms, attempting to keep the axe from his head. The bezerker's face was a mass of scar tissue and bionics. His teeth were iron fangs, and he drooled and spit at Adler in his unholy rage.

Suddenly the body went slack, falling on top of Adler. It was drug off of him, by a warrior in grey. He thought it was Dantioch until he realized he could see his savior's face. He held out a large gladius to Adler, who took it with a nod. The Iron Warrior grinned and rushed back off to the battle, holding a screaming chainaxe.

The Inquisitor watched the battle unfold through the eyes of a servo skull flying above the chaos. She watched as the loyal Iron Warriors and the Black Templars fought side by side against the unholy swarm of bezerkers. A small fleet of ships had translated in system, probably the 'crusade' of some champion of Chaos. She had requested aid, and had been told that a force of Guardsmen and Astartes would arrive within the week. Great. Until then she would have to rely on an undermanned PDF force, and a possibly traitor force of Space Marines.

So far though, the Iron Warriors had proved themselves loyal. To an extent. The Castellan had wanted to slay the Iron Warriors when they had first arrived. Only the word from the Inquisitor to stay his hand had stopped him. She had to admit her curiosity had been peaked. Such a thing was not uncommon. From what the Inquistion had learn from those rare few captured Traitor Marines, was that time flowed differently in the Eye of Terror and the Warp in general. While it had been ten thousand years since the Heresy to the Imperium as a whole, to some of the Traitors it had had only been a couple hundred. She shook her head to clear it as she watched the battle unfold. It appeared as though her forces were going to win the day.

Dantioch watched as the last few bezerkers charged the line, watching as the heavy bolters opened up. It had been more of a slaughter than a battle, and he suspected it was more of a probe to test their defences than an actual attack. They were probably facing one of his fallen brothers then. If the positions had been reversed, he would have done much the same. The Castellan and Adler approached, followed by Brother Kronus, the eldest of the Assault Marines. Dantioch's Assault troops had eschewed their jump packs for this battle, preferring to fight in the trenches.

"Castellan, you're men fought well." The Castellan sneered.

"Of course they did." Dantioch slowly shook his head.

"That was just the probing wave, Castellan. They will soon return, and in greater numbers. My men are effcient at defence, but even the Imperial Fists could hold out forever."

"Indeed? You would stake your life on that?" Dantioch's eyes narrowed under his helmet. His voice took on a heavy, leaden tone.

"Castellan, I've seen horrors. Horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a heretic. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that, but you have no right to judge me." He turned towards his men and walked off, leaving a stunned Castellan and an awed Adler. Adler turned to Kronus.

"What did he mean?"

"During the course of the Great Crusade, we did things. Horrible things. But I will not speak of them, I will let the Warsmith do that." He too, turned to rejoin his brothers. The Castellan turned to Adler.

"Don't get too cozy with them, Neophyte. There are heretics and traitors everywhere." Adler nodded and bowed to the Castellan as he walked away. He knew there was truth in what the Castellan said, but he saw the way these Iron Warriors held themselves. They were honorable, and brave. They were not heretics.

!

No other attacks had occurred in the last few days, although the astropaths and the Inquisitor's Navigator had reported an increase in Warp activity. But hope bloomed as an Imperial fleet burst from the Warp on the fifth day after the attack. The Inquisitor hailed the Astartes Strike Cruiser that led the fleet.

"Astartes, this is Inquisitor Mjolka Nixos. Copy? Over," The vox crackled for a moment, and she wasn't sure if it went through.

"Copy, Inquisitor. This is Captain Vemis Cestus if the Sons of Guilliman. We have come to your aid. Over." The Inquisitor didn't like being snubbed, but Astartes were all the same.

!

_Okay, that was chapter two. Tell me what you all think of it, and of my choice of savior. Constructive criticism is always welcome, as are reviews. Iron Within, Iron Without!_


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